


(Mini-fic) Sick Beats and Phone Numbers

by rat_creature



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, M/M, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-19
Updated: 2016-08-19
Packaged: 2018-08-09 16:19:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7808701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rat_creature/pseuds/rat_creature
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mini-fic for dirkjohn week 2016.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(Mini-fic) Sick Beats and Phone Numbers

  
  


Your name is JOHN EGBERT and you’re currently working as a waiter. You only really think of how you _slightly_ regret taking a job at a gay bar in situations like these.

Around your shoulders is a hot drunk guy and that wouldn’t totally be a problem… if you actually knew him and if he didn’t just ask some other drunk dude to take a picture of you together. Something about you (emphasis on the quote, unquote you’re doing in your head)“looking like someone he knew”.

He thanks the guy taking the picture, you take a look at his phone. Well. It’s more like he _makes_ you look by shoving it in your face. You’re pretty damn impressed at how it’s not a bad shot. He’s shouting something at you over the music; thanking you maybe? You’ve never been good at lip reading.

You turn to head to the bar but he stops you before you can get far.

“Hey man, can I have your phone number?”

Oooh God, that was whispered in your _ear. Low fuckin’ blow._

“What, no way.”

You don’t really try to make yourself heard above the music but somehow he hears it anyway.

“It’s just so I can send this to you?”

Oh.

Riiiiiiiight.

You’re totally believing that one! 

You turn around to face him and give him a stare. He looks at you in return and bursts out laughing.

“Aw hell did _that_ come out wrong. I’m serious.”

Huh, he has a southern twang. That’s endearing you guess, maybe it’s just because your best friend has the same accent.

“…If you start spamming me with bullshit I’m blocking you, fair warning.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it!”

He gives you a smirk and you wonder what the hell you’ve gotten yourself into.


End file.
